


Involved In This Affair

by DarkwingSnark, Moonbeamcat



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 03:56:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18328151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkwingSnark/pseuds/DarkwingSnark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonbeamcat/pseuds/Moonbeamcat
Summary: The extended edition of Chapter 29 of 'What Happens in Gotham, Stays in Gotham'.Mere days before Christmas, Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch receive the news that Batman has perished by the hands of some unknown newcomer called 'Sid the Squid'.





	Involved In This Affair

_Jervis Tetch had learned a lot about his partner following the_ **_incident_ ** _with Scarecrow. ‘Incident’ feeling pronounced in his mind as a night of terror, sadness, and an emotional closeness unlike any he had felt before with another being. It was true something similar had happened prior, when it came to the likes of Jonathan retelling all that he and his fellow inmates had experienced at the hands of Lyle Bolton. But that night had been_ **_different_ ** _. Jonathan staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on his chest as he spilled out moment after moment of the cruelty he had received at the hands of his own flesh and blood. Words spilled from Crane’s lips with a cold detachment, as if he was just reading a very detailed report of the events, rather than having lived it himself._

_Yet, still, Jervis had felt it. The fear that young Jonathan had lived through. The likes of feeling like he was walking a tightrope, where at any time the slightest wrong step could send him teetering over and receive the unjust lashing from his great grandmother. But it was the mention of the crows that had left Jervis’ blood running cold through his veins, as Jonathan described how the monstrous creatures had torn his young body asunder. Ripping away flesh as his grandmother sung hymnes to drown out the child’s screams._

_If anything, it showed the strides of the professor’s character that he had taken in Nevar at all-- let alone how affectionate he was towards that which had been his greatest threat._

_“_ **_No_ ** _,” Crane had argued then, locking eyes with the Englishman sharing his bed, “the crows were simple minded beasts. My greatest threat had always been_ **_her_ ** _.”_

_Jonathan was a man that refused to accept pity, even from the likes of the man he loved. And yet, be it from his own sense of guilt or shame that he felt from what his grotesque half had wanted to transpire, he allowed Jervis to shed his tears for him. He accepted Jervis’ need to bestow affection upon him, even if it was from the simple gesture of stroking Crane’s cheek. Hatter had been thankful for at least that much, as there was no way he could ever-- with his words-- say anything that could even begin to heal what had happened to him._

_Flesh healed, scars could even sometimes fade-- but the mind would_ **_always_ ** _remember._

_It was after the confessional that the Englishman decided, arms wrapped around Jonathan’s sleeping form, that perhaps he should drop his latest pursuit. It… didn’t feel as important any longer, after having heard a lifetime of secrets in one evening. And it was with this mindset that Jervis woke the following morning, careful not to disturb the lanky figure next to him as he climbed out from beneath the sheets. No, Jervis Tetch could never erase a lifetime of suffering… But at the very least he could make Jonathan Crane feel loved and wanted-- cherished more than from the family that could never see his value._

_Even if the steps towards doing so began with preparing the man a hearty breakfast in bed._

 

* * *

  
  
Jervis and Jonathan had been sitting on the sofa on a Wednesday evening-- three days before Christmas would make itself known. Crane wasn’t one for celebrating the holidays, with many a reason to despise the yuletide season as a whole. Yet he had put up with his partner’s need for cultivating cheer-- even if it was by putting up some meager decorations throughout the living area of the factory. The man had been at it for most of the day, the radio blasting song after song. It was only when Tetch felt himself exhausted that he finally decided upon a break, having dragged Jonathan out from his study. The Englishman had mentioned plans of turning towards PBS, as more than likely some movie or another would be on for the two of them to enjoy.

These plans, quite naturally, changed when ‘ _It’s a Wonderful Life_ ’ was cut off short by the familiar logo of the Gotham News Network.

“Summer Gleason here from GNN, interrupting local broadcast with a breaking news report.”

Crane rolled his eyes in annoyance, moving to get up from the couch and change the channel. Normally it was wise to keep an eye on the news, but considering neither of them were planning on doing much more than staying inside where it was warm, there was really no reason to care what was happening outside.

But he froze in place when a picture of Batman appeared on the screen. He stared and listened, settling back onto the couch.

"Tragedy struck late last night, when Gotham City's residential vigilante, Batman, perished, when a propane tank mysteriously exploded."

Jonathan stared, slack jawed, as the words worked their way into his head, tumbling around as he attempted to make sense of them.

"-- rumored to have been the work of a man calling himself The Squid--"

The report went on, but Crane wasn't listening anymore. Slowly, his lips curled into an impish grin.

"He's dead?" He uttered, his voice bubbling with joyous excitement. Turning to the other inhabitant on the couch showed Jervis to be equally as flabbergasted by the news, shock working its way to his own sense of glee.

“It’s… rather hard to believe, _wouldn’t you say?_ ” Doubt didn’t diminish Hatter’s own Cheshire Cat beam, all the while the television went on to show the damage that had occurred from the explosion, taking down half the dock and building in the process. “Then again, I should think even **the Batman** would have the hardest time surviving a sea of flames and the weight of bricks.”

Summer Gleeson continued on with her mourning, which was promptly ignored as Hatter began to cackle wickedly-- not having forgot his ire over the vigilante having left Jonathan to suffer from his own toxins.

“‘ _And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?/ Come to my arms, my beamish boy!/ O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!_ ’” Jervis recited in his joy, grabbing onto his partner’s shoulders with unbridled enthusiasm. Crane’s own amusement over the reaction was swiftly cut short, his own jest forgotten as he was swept up in an unexpected kiss-- Jervis’ eyes closed as a youthful ‘myah’ was placed onto the other man’s lips.

Whatever spell of glee that had overtaken the Englishman was instantly smothered the moment he pulled away-- as reality over what he had done came crashing down upon him. Face flushed, Jervis jerked his hands back towards himself-- both grasping the other so as to prevent themselves from acting out again.

“I...I’m sorry, Jonathan, “ Jervis floundered, looking away sheepishly. “I do believe I… may have gotten too excited there. Pardon me for that.”

Crane was paralyzed for a moment; he had wanted to kiss this ridiculous man for so long, and it had passed so quickly. Be it the overwhelmingly good mood Batman's demise had brought on, or simply having waited for so long, the ex-professor felt no qualms with taking that as an invitation.

A dangerous grin unfurled, and Jonathan's wide, shocked eyes sharpened into a half lidded gaze, devious passion dancing within them like flames.

"Too excited, indeed." Crane growled, reaching a hand out to place on Jervis' cheek, and turn him to face him again. He leaned forward and firmly pressed his lips to Jervis', in a manner far more gentle and careful than his eagerness demanded.

Jervis couldn’t help but be reminded of the novel young Harleen had passed onto him, the romantic airs in which the schoolmaster initiates his passions upon his aristocratic companion. The difference, of course, being that this wasn’t something where the Englishman had to imagine what the sensation was like. **No.** The reality was far more enticing than the fantasy, as Tetch’s tingling lips caused a flutter inside him-- finding out that a story’s description of a _‘toe curling kiss’_ was **indeed** a thing a person could feel.

Jervis _‘oh’ed_ softly against his partner, his hands finding themselves wrapping around the lankier figure in reflex to ground himself as he attempted to return the affection.

It was ridiculous, really, how physical affection had the power to affect the mind and body this way. There was a time when Professor Crane firmly believed that the only worthwhile pursuits in life were those of the intellectual kind. The only stimulation one needed was _the stimulation of the mind._

A stubborn part of him still firmly believed this, but in this moment, Jervis was making it difficult to dispute the power of stimulation of the more physical sort. Jervis hadn't pulled away in revulsion, he had reciprocated. The lips pressing back against his own... it was more than physical. _He hadn't been rejected._ That realization alone was overpowering, and had it not been for the persistent need to analyze this fascinating new sensation, he may have ruined the moment right then and there by weeping like a frightened child.

Trying his best not to overthink it, Crane slid his free hand up the back of his partner's neck and then the back of his head, burying his fingers in the soft locks he found there, in a gesture he had felt too foolish to partake in before. Reluctant, but unsure how long these things were supposed to last, he pulled away, resting his forehead against Jervis'. He didn't want to overstay his welcome and make the guy uncomfortable... but, perhaps selfishly, wasn't quite ready to give up the closeness just yet, either.

Crane’s concern, however, hadn’t been needed-- as Jervis greedily went in for another. Whatever softness and hesitance that had been there before, was replaced with a more demanding hunger. Jervis had taken a taste of something new and wonderful, and just like his habit of doing, _he couldn’t help but take **more** than his fill._ The Englishman felt more than heard a rumble escape himself, as his fingers dug in deeper to the rough fabric of his partner’s top-- his brain just barely processing the hitch in Jonathan’s frame from the action. When the taller man yet again broke away, slightly gasping for air, Jervis cradled himself against his partner’s neck. Not so much giving it a second thought, he deeply breathed in the man’s scent-- humming a note of pleasure at the slight musk scent that could only be described as ‘Jonathan’ to Jervis’ hazy mind.

Despite the passionate liplock only moments before, Jervis' breath on his neck caused Jonathan to shiver. He stared straight ahead, over Jervis' shoulder, breathing irregular from more than just lack of oxygen. His buzzing mind grasped desperately at pieces, to mold them into some sort of logic and reason. Only one conclusion had been reached: _he'd been wrong in his assumptions._ There was **no way** he was misreading his partner's intentions **this** time.

And if he was, the universe was far more cruel than even he had given it credit for.

Instead of verbally asking (he wasn't confident his voice would work in that moment, anyway), he decided to avoid the awkwardness and try something else. He dipped his head down to press his lips against the warmth of his partner's neck, a hand trailing down his back in a precarious game of 'How Far Will He Allow Me To Go".

Introducing lips onto Jervis’ neck caused another noise of surprise to escape him-- a mixture of a hiss and an ‘oh’ that caused him to grip onto the other man tighter. It was an interesting time to discover a new fact about himself-- that his sheltered skin was _sensitive_. Instinct wanted him to jerk away, as the light taste of chaste flesh stimulated his nerves. Yet, luckily for him, Crane found the time to press on with fervor-- lips cascading down until he was prevented to go no further by Jervis’ collar. The Englishman sighed breathlessly, pulling himself away from Jonathan’s administrations.

Before Crane could inquire if he went too far, he was interrupted by Jervis’ husky remark.

“ _Here…_ **_allow me._ **”

Blue eyes clouded with desire locked onto Jonathan’s own as he tugged away at his tie. Silence was broken by the slick sound of fabric moving against fabric-- the Hatter’s signature tie forgotten as it fell onto the floor, abandoned.

Crane paused long enough to glance at the discarded tie with mild disbelief. Oh. **That** was as far as he was being permitted to go. Any nervous trepidation he may have still felt vanished then, washed away in a wave of pent up, ravenous desire. Crane brought his knees up to kneel on the couch cushion, straightening himself and wrapping his arms around Jervis' back, pulling him in against himself and smirking down at him.

"Much obliged." He muttered, before dipping back down to kiss and lightly nip at the newly exposed skin. Feeling bold, he went so far as to undo the first few buttons to explore even further.

He wasn't even sure why an act such as this should be so intoxicating... could it simply be he had a thing for exploring that which others would prefer stayed hidden? Or, perhaps, he thought to himself, it was more about the reactions he might elicit.

" _Oh my!_ "

Yes, like that one. Crane smiled against Jervis' flesh-- but it quickly fell as his feverish mind finally caught up with reality enough to realize that hadn't been Jervis. Jonathan pulled away and righted himself abruptly, scowling when he came face-to-face with the crow sitting on the back of the couch.

" _Do you **mind?**_ " Crane hissed at Nevar.

"Oh!" the bird replied, but made no attempt to leave.  " **Nevermore.** "

Jervis, chest lightly exposed to the elements, huffed in annoyance as he glanced up at the crow staring intently at them.

“ _Heavens,_ **_not again_ ** ,” the Englishman murmured, his frustration over having the moment stopped overpowering his usual need to cover his mortification of having been seen in such a state. “Nevar, _please_ , **do** give us some space.”

This was accompanied by a shooing gesture, the flick of Jervis’ gloved covered hands getting the message across. Nevar croaked out, flapping his wings a few times as if to show his own irritation at having been told to leave, before making his retreat. Crane was busy watching the bird fly off, when the sound of Jervis clearing his throat brought back the man’s attention to himself.

“Now, while it was a rather **rude** interruption, I **do** believe this has gone a trifle too far…” Standing up from the sofa, the Englishman was full of surprises as his fingers found themselves caressing the underside of his partner’s jaw. Jervis went on meekly, his gaze not being able to stay on Jonathan for long. “ _Perhaps_ we should change our **venue** , my dear? Make ourselves… _more comfortable?_ ”

After being told things had gone too far, being slyly invited into their bedroom to continue **was** a welcomed surprise.

"Yes, some place with fewer distractions, perhaps." Crane noted how much he sounded like a man just waking from a deep slumber; Jervis didn't need his cards to make a hazy, jumbled mess of his mind it seemed. He stood from the couch and followed his partner into their makeshift bedroom, the door clicking softly shut behind them.

A moment later, the door opened, the Scarecrow mask tossed out, and shut again.

 

* * *

 

On the other side of the door, Crane had just finished shutting it-- smiling with immense satisfaction over having kicked the tyrant from the room. _This evening would be for_ _**them** , and them **alone** _ _._ No Scarecrow to muddle the experience, to twist and mangle their moment of intimacy. Facing Jervis once more, he was amused to see the smaller man sitting on the bed-- carefully removing his footwear. As if sensing being watched and judged, the Englishman gave a light shrug.

“No need to be **barbaric** about this,” the black and white shoe was joined by its twin, both neatly placed by the foot of the bed. Jervis was about to jest about how he’ll more than likely need to do the washing afterwards-- _his mind fumbling from his sudden sense of nerves as the reality of the situation was quickly dawning upon him_ \-- when he was stopped mid-thought by the placement of long nimble fingers resting against his back. Slowly sitting up, Jervis’ heart began its pitter-patter of excitement at the mischievous grin of the man that towered him.

"Just so you know," Crane began, sliding onto the bed beside him. "I fear the moment may be ruined should I be forced to watch you fold our clothes and set them aside, as well." He teased.

The hand on Jervis' back slid a delicate path up over his shoulder, and down to his front, fingers splayed over his chest. Jonathan pushed firmly and, despite both of them knowing he possessed little physical strength, Jervis took the hint and lay back against the mattress they shared.

Crane wasted no time in crawling atop the other man, legs and arms straddling him on each side. And, in all honesty, he wasn't entirely sure just what he was supposed to do now. But he wasn't nervous about it, either... seeing this man so willing and vulnerable beneath him was something he had, quite literally, been dreaming about. A moment that was finally his, against all odds, and whatever he decided to do with it would be glorious.

"Well, _my little deviant?_ " Crane purred, grinning that mischievous grin down at his partner. His fingertips trailed lightly down Jervis' exposed chest, stopping once they'd reached the next button, going to work to unfasten it.

"Are we more comfortable **now**?"

Jervis’ breath hitched from the light caress-- however was he supposed to remember to **breathe** when he was already dutifully juggling these new sensations? _A conundrum the Hatter found himself with, indeed._ Taking in a shaky inhale, Jervis smiled despite his uncertainty.

“I’m coming along, “ was the Englishman’s rebuttal, hands traversing to the side of Crane’s thighs more so to avoid the awkward feeling of having them pinned against himself. Jonathan had finished unfastening a button, his fingers already busy fiddling with the next as Jervis teased back. “Though, I question if unwrapping me will do much to help, you know. Why, _I might end up_ **_shivering_ ** _from the exposure._ ”

Jonathan quirked a brow at this, his grin falling to a lopsided smirk. His hand paused in its unbuttoning and hovered for a moment.

"I don't think keeping you warm will prove an issue." He lowered himself until his lips were right next to Jervis' ear, while the hand traveled down to his partner's groin. "But I can't promise I won't find other ways of making you **shiver**." Crane chuckled as he rubbed Jervis through his pants with his palm shamelessly.

If the plan had been to extort some sort of sound from the Englishman, Crane had **succeeded** . Jervis gasped at the attention to his nethers, back arching as hands held onto his partner tighter. _Oh… That… That was…_ Jervis had trouble processing what he was feeling. Pleasure, guilt over said enjoyment, _the desire to experience it_ **_again_ ** _._ Which was what he received, as Crane continued to knead his groin with the skill of someone who was used to handing out such administrations.

Jervis, not having ever been someone who enjoyed having nothing to do, found himself grasping onto the sides of Jonathan’s face-- lips crashing together once more. It came as no surprise to the Englishman that their noses got in the way-- yet, stubbornness forced Jervis onward. Lips, cheek, neck-- Hatter kissed and nipped at whatever bit of flesh he could find, sampling from the tantalizing buffet before him.

Crane had been enjoying this feeling of power; the feel of Jervis growing stiff under his touch, the sound of him gasping from his attention. He'd surrendered himself completely to Jonathan, and unsurprisingly, that was an enormous turn on for the power hungry villain.

The sudden barrage of kisses managed to throw Crane off his game a bit-- his mind growing fuzzy around the edges again, his sense of control slipping slightly.

Sex was one thing; sex was primal, an instinct, it came almost naturally. Kisses were another thing entirely. They fell under affection, love. These were things his mind still didn't know how to process quite right, and therefore caused a bit of a short circuit. Except this was worse than when Jervis would hold his hand or peck him on the cheek. The longer it went on, the more logic and reasoning ceased to function, along with any form of decency the man had left.

The hand palming Jervis' groin pulled away, both of his arms wrapping around his partner's back, in both a gesture of affection, and for leverage reasons. He burrowed his face back into Jervis' neck, and pressed his own groin against Jervis', too far gone to feel shame over his partner becoming aware of how overly excited he had already become. Giving up tact in favor of something more greedy, _more animalistic_ , Crane thrust himself against the man beneath him, hands grasping handfuls of fabric from Jervis' shirt, exhaling in a burst of warm breath against Jervis' skin.

The guttural grunt the Englishman gave would have mortified Tetch’s more rational mind, if he had been in a state to recognize it. No, instead his brain latched onto the hardness of his partner’s groin rutting against his own-- the bursts of tension shooting through him with every thrust and pooling inside his stomach. With Jonathan supporting his upper half, Jervis found his hands sliding down towards the professor’s posterior. With a needy thrust of his own, his hands gripped the boney backside of his partner as he pushed the man against his body. This created a rhythm, the two rocking against each other very much like a ship bobbing along the tides.

Jervis’ gloved fingers dug themselves into the baggy burlap of Crane’s trousers-- his mind only barely catching on to the fact the man was even thinner than his usual stature showed. This, however, didn’t deter him from tightening his hold on his partner on top of him-- as wanton abandon made the Englishman forget his more gentle nature.

The change in Jervis' demeanor was noticed immediately, bringing Jonathan back to his senses somewhat. A sense of smug satisfaction came over him at hearing the man make such noises, the way he pushed back so eagerly. Jervis Tetch had successfully fooled him into believing he was the perfect, proper gentleman, with nary a dirty thought nor desire within him.

Tonight had proven him wrong. This was a side of the Hatter that, not only had no one but him ever seen, but no one would believe it existed at all. It was fascinating. A feeling almost as empowering as eliciting a fear res--

 **_"Hnk!"_ ** This train of thought was put on hold as Jervis' hands made themselves unmistakably known. Yup, those were hands, on his rear. Definitely a new sensation he hadn't counted on. Crane let out a quick, short huff, born from both passion and mild humiliation. He moved his head up to teasingly accuse Jervis of being a little too frisky tonight, but once he was there, decided he didn't quite mind the hands grasping at his posterior, after all. Instead, he used this opportunity to lightly nip at his partner's earlobe.

Jervis scrunched his face at the action, yet again finding the sensation queer but invigorating. He couldn’t help the shaky laugh that escaped him, it sounding throaty even to his own ears.

“Jonathan, _don’t be ridiculous_.” The Englishman chided, taking the opportunity through his haze to think about exploration. Removing one of his hands off of the professor’s backside, Jervis brought it to his own mouth- teeth securing the glove as he tugged it free. Brushing the discarded item of clothing aside, Jervis led his hand back down the rough surface of Crane’s attire. It was when he reached the end of Jonathan’s shirt, feeling where trousers and top separated, did he slip his hand through-- flesh connecting with flesh. Jervis momentarily marveled at how little there was separating skin from bones-- as his meatier digits trailed along his vertebrae. It was hesitant, as if suddenly recalling just how frail his partner could be.

Crane's amused smirk twitched and then fell altogether when he felt the fingers traveling up his spine. Jervis' skin was so soft. His touch so gentle. The feeling was comforting in a way, and yet... was that a tinge of dread he felt? Yes, he'd know it anywhere. But why?

_BECAUSE YOU KNOW THE FURTHER HE EXPLORES, THE MORE HE'LL DISCOVER HOW HIDEOUS WE ARE._

_Not you. I tossed you out for a reason. Begone with you._

_OH BUT THIS TIME IT'LL BE WORSE, WON'T IT? THE CHILDREN WERE OPEN ABOUT IT. THE HATTER IS TOO POLITE TO INSULT YOU TO YOUR FACE. BUT HE'LL BE THINKING IT._

_Stop it._

_THE CHILDREN THREW STONES, CAST YOU IN FLAMES, BUT HE'LL DO FAR WORSE. YOU'VE LEFT US VULNERABLE AND HE WILL SHATTER US COMPLETELY. HE'LL LEAVE US, YOU KNOW._

_Then allow me to enjoy this now. I beg of you._

Jonathan tightened his hold on Jervis, nuzzling into his neck, and the Scarecrow was silent. He gave up his thrusting, and his body ached in protest of this decision. He simply lay there, taking in Jervis' scent, the fact he was very real, and very there, and assuring himself that, for the time being, no one and nothing could take him away.

Jervis, meanwhile, had been busy taking in his partner’s form-- one hand holding Crane’s thigh in support while the other lightly petted the man lovingly. To be able to _touch_ , to hold onto Jonathan without the man shying away-- _why_ , it made butterflies dance and flutter inside him. He was taking in Jonathan, mind mapping every feature and storing it. This was a side of him that only **he** and he **alone** would ever be able to enjoy, the Englishman couldn’t help but think adoringly.

However, it didn’t take long for Jervis to realize the man on top of him had stopped moving. His partner’s firm lower half resting against him told Hatter he hadn’t spent himself yet, which made worry web itself inside him. Pulling his hand out from under Crane’s shirt, Jervis voiced his concerns.

“Jonathan… is everything well?”

Crane's eyes shot open and he realized they'd been in the middle of something. A something he was on the verge of **ruining** . Like **Hell** he was going to let their first venture into coitus be brought to an end with another heartfelt chat about feelings and damaged psyches.

"Hm, oh yes, quite well." He pushed himself up off of Jervis, straightening but still straddling the man's upper legs. "I was merely... contemplating my options." He trailed his fingertips down Jervis' exposed chest and stomach, stopping to hook under the edge of Jervis' pants. "I believe I've reached a decision. _Any objections_?" He raised a questioning brow and he waited.

Villains were known to take what they wanted, sure, but some situations required a little more tact and respect.

Whatever worry Jervis had instantly perished the moment Jonathan began touching him once more. Jervis found himself unable to breathe as the sensation of a nimble digit on his tanned stomach-- Crane’s nail leaving a white trail in its wake. The Englishman arched into the touch, finally exhaling as his partner pulled on the waist of his buttoned trousers. _Oh, Jonathan wanted to… wanted to **see** …_ Jervis would have flushed all the more from the notion from it, if the tingle of excitement hadn’t coiled itself inside him once more.

Jervis nodded his head, his voice taking a moment to follow.

“Y-yes… _Please_.” Polite, even with hands unbuttoning his lower half. “You’re free to do whatever you wish, my dear.”

Crane had to hold back laughter at that; anything he wished? _Jervis truly trusted him far too much._ You should never tell a rogue they're to do whatever they wished. Had Jonathan been any less attached to this man, he may have used this opportunity to teach him that lesson here and now. (Granted, he only now became aware of the fact he hadn't had a plan B if Jervis had told him 'no'. )

Instead, he finished unbuttoning his pants and pulled them down until Jervis' erect member was staring him in the face.

Jonathan paused for a moment in mild envy before wrapping his hand around it. He had another man's genitals in his hand. This wasn't an experience he'd ever thought would come to pass. It felt strange, even ridiculous on some level. What did he plan to do with it now that he had it? Did he _really_ plan on putting another person's genitals in his mouth? Was that what he really wanted to **do**?

Without planning to, his eyes trailed back to at the face of his significant other. Jervis Tetch, a man who was too prideful to let anyone see his true self, lying there, at his mercy. The prideful Hatter, and Crane held his throbbing penis in his hand. If he had gotten such a delicious reaction simply by caressing the man's exposed stomach, he was no doubt in for something even better with this. Yup. If love wasn't enough for him to go through with the act, amused spite definitely was.

"Blond. Lovely." Crane smirked, deciding that was believable enough a reason to explain the delay, before lightly squeezing the shaft, and slipping the head into his mouth. He ran his tongue over the tip of it, experimentally.

Jervis didn’t know what he had expected would transpire after Jonathan’s inquiry. Yet, whatever it had been _certainly didn’t compare_ to the sudden introduction of his member being engulfed by the wet and warm cavern of his partner’s mouth. An airy noise escaped him, followed by a moan as Crane’s tongue grazed past the underside of his length, swirling upwards with experimentation.

Jervis tightened his thighs in reflex, another shiver working through him. A part of him was concerned about the cleanliness of the act, he knew he scrubbed himself quite vigorously whenever he could-- making sure every crease and crevice was spoken for. Yet, as the man he loved started bobbing his head up and down on the most personal part of his person, thin lips sliding over his neglected nethers… Well, _to be perfectly **frank** _, he couldn’t find it in himself to care quite as much as he had mere moments before.

The Englishman exhaled sharply from his nose, a slight whistle escaping him as the hands against his sides instinctively grasped onto the red flames atop Jonathan’s head in support. Trimmed nails dug into his scalp as the ex-professor sucked harder-- Jervis having to use his utmost control not to thrust his hips into the working orifice.

“ **_Ngh_ ** _, oh…_ **_Oh Jonathan_ ** _…_ ” Jervis muttered, his overbite clamping onto his bottom lip to quiet himself. He didn’t know the decorum of these sort of things, but he couldn’t help but think, perhaps, he wasn’t supposed to talk during these procedures. _Despite how_ **_desperately_ ** _he wished to coo out praise and adoration towards his significant other._

The feeling of the fingers on his scalp, along with Jervis' delightful vocalizations, sent a shiver through Jonathan that reminded him of the fact his own body still ached for attention. He slipped a hand down to his own groin and hoped it wouldn't be noticed. He rubbed at himself through his pants as he continued working on the task at hand... and mouth.

Crane could feel his own wetness through the fabric of his pants, not the most pleasant of sensations. But this, along with the painfully building pressure told him he was close. His resolve and rhythm both suffered from this, and he was forced to rely solely on sucking, and dragging his tongue back and forth along the underside and tip of the head. His breath came out in uneven panting through his nose as he did his best to concentrate.

Crane’s uncertain actions felt like masterful ministrations as far as Jervis was concerned. Even as the building tension caused the Englishman to squirm and writhe-- little pants and ‘ohs’ escaping him all the while-- Jervis couldn’t help but keep his gaze locked onto the man bobbing and lapping him up. Jervis couldn’t tell if it had been **him** who forced the tilt of the other’s man head, or if it had been an action done by his own accord; yet, the moment Jonathan’s gaze locked upon his own as he dutifully worked… Jervis swore to himself that he would never see anything as stunning. Dark and clouded eyes peeking through strands of red-- pale skin dusted with a cherry hue.

The sight stirred his heart just as much as it roused his loins.

“ _Jon-Jonathan… I’m_ ,” Jervis inadequately tried to find the proper words to articulate the feeling that had coiled and bubbled inside him-- very much like an upset champagne bottle waiting for the pop of its cork. The Englishman felt a whine escape him, his fingers clasping onto Crane’s head tighter as he rode out the remainder of the building pressure.

And, just like the opening of a virgin bottle of wine, Jervis Tetch hissed as he expelled himself.

Witnessing the man he loved in the throes of passion, seeing his expression as he let go, it was an unexpectedly powerful thing. The nails digging into his scalp fueling the pleasure was another surprise.

_It seems I'm learning all of your dirty little secrets, aren't I?_

Was the incoherent thought that crossed Jonathan's mind as it momentarily turned to static and mush, his body shuddering as he soiled his underwear. A moment later he came to, and became aware he had a mouth full of. _Ah._ An interesting flavor. He swallowed it without a second thought.

Jonathan sat up, and wiped the drool from his face with the back of his hand, gazing down at Jervis. It was a delicious sight that he decided he wouldn't mind seeing again and again. He didn't even have a single witty remark in that moment, nothing seemed worthy enough, nothing important enough to spoil this stunning visage that, quite literally, laid before him. Instead he crawled up to lay silently beside him, doing his best to ignore the uncomfortably sticky mess he'd made.

Jonathan didn’t get to enjoy the relaxing afterglow for long, as he was surprised by hands grasping onto him-- Jervis eagerly peppering the man’s face with peck after peck. Each kiss showing the words the Englishman couldn’t currently voice as he showered him with his love and thanks. And just as quickly as the barrage came, it ended just as suddenly-- Jervis finally coming down from his euphoric high as he panted for air. It was with a breathy sigh, still close to his partner’s face, that he finally spoke.

“ **Thank you** , love. You were wonderful. _Superb_ . **Frabjuous,** I’d even say, if you’d permit me my whimsy.”

As if through sobriety, the Englishman began to feel some embarrassment at having realized that he was still… well, **exposed**. And it was then that he drew himself away slightly to tuck himself in, buttoning his trousers as he carried on speaking more so to distract from his own awkwardness.

“ **In any case** , I very much appreciated the experience, my dear. Thank you once more.”

Being attacked with affection immediately after masturbating was another new experience Crane decided he could get used to. It was awkward, perhaps, but really, it did wonders for smothering away the shame it normally left him with.

Jervis' attempt at polite conversation to cover up the fact he was tucking himself away after receiving fellatio caused Crane to let out an amused chuckle. He lay back against his pillow, placing his hands over his midsection and closing his eyes.

"We just _made love_ , and you're acting as if I just changed your tire. _You're welcome, Jervis,_ but I assure you, this was certainly a two way transaction." A short pause, and he opened his eyes, brows raising in intrigue. "One I didn't think we would ever partake in, if I'm perfectly honest. You had me convinced you... had no interest in that sort of thing."

“Ah, yes, well… Your assumptions would have been correct, for the most part.” Jervis admitted, his own fingers drumming across his chest as he tried to think of the proper way of expressing his condition. “If I’m to be perfectly frank, my dear, I had originally feared, upon your.. Ah, _admittance of desires--_ ” He paused momentarily, Jervis still feeling remorseful over the hypnotism scandal, before quickly continuing, “that I, well… Might not have been able to… to provide nor reciprocate.”

The Englishman sighed, shaking his head softly at his own embarrassment. He didn’t know how he could still feel such a thing in the presence of his significant other, after having just engaged in such an intimate act. Still, the topic would probably never be something Jervis got used to discussing. He carried on.

“It was after my chat with Oswald, and his insistence on the topic, that I began to fret that my own issues on the matter would be detrimental to our relationship, thus it was followed up with visiting Harleen for… _assistance_ .” Jervis cleared his throat slightly. “She… recommended a book that ended up being _very helpful_ on the matter.”

This little confession left Crane feeling multiple things at once; guilt over Jervis thinking he had to get physical in order for their relationship to last, anger at Cobblepot for putting the idea in his head in the first place, and... uncomfortable upon learning Harleen had given Jervis some kind of smut magazine. And that he had **accepted** a smut magazine from her!

"I see." Crane replied after a moment of contemplation. "Well. Just, so we're clear. We needn't engage in these sort of activities, to have a... functioning relationship. While it is true my..." Here, Crane frowned deeply, partly in shame, partly in disgust. " _self,_ has been more active since meeting you, I am perfectly capable of dealing with it on my own. I fell for your mind first, Jervis, your intellect. Your passion over reading, the sciences. Then it was your twisted, yet fascinating way of looking at the world. Then your smile, your eyes, it spiraled out of control, really."

He was getting off track now. He sighed and gathered his thoughts.

"My **point,** Jervis, is you stimulate _my mind_ . Everything else is simply an inconvenient side effect of that. We don't need to do this again, _our relationship does not depend upon it."_

The thought of this never happening again was somehow both disappointing and a relief all at once, Crane discovered.

Jervis watched Jonathan silently as he took in his partner’s own admission of affection. Of course he’d **known** of his love, but it was always enjoyable to **hear** nice things said about oneself all the same. Once Crane had finished with his speech and reassurance, Jervis looked away to stare at his twiddling thumbs. It was in his nervousness that he couldn’t help but feel like a child, as if he was expected to explain himself after having been reprimanded.

“Depend, no,” the Englishman agreed, “ **however** … while I will always respect your decision on the matter either way, I… really hope we might be able to do this again.” Jervis then quickly added, almost as if pleading. “I really **did** enjoy myself, you know. And if it wasn’t something I was interested in pursuing with you, I wouldn’t have… well, **_surely_** _you must have noticed I’ve been laying my affection on thick all week?_ ”

If it had been any thicker he could have taken a knife to it and used it as butter-- though this, naturally, was a thought that Hatter kept to himself.

Looking back on it, yes, Crane supposed Jervis **had** been a little more _flirtatious_ as of late. It was flattering to think he'd been trying to bed him for an entire week, even if the want had seemingly been born of guilt and worry.

 _"That_ **_does_ ** _explain the_ **_footsies._ ** _"_ He remarked with a smirk. "It seems I'll need to be more mindful of your advances in the future, then, less assuming over your true intentions. I only hope it'll take less to encourage your forwardness next time; _we seem to be fresh out of heroes."_

He said this in obvious glee. Their little romp had momentarily caused him to forget what had led to it in the first place. Batman was dead.

"Oh, I do believe this will be the merriest Christmas **I've** ever had."

Jervis smiled at Jonathan’s cheer, chuckling softly as his hand pat his partner’s own lightly in concurrence.

“ _You know, love, I feel you may be right._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Art gifted by Micaxiii, as always: http://micaxiii.tumblr.com


End file.
